


Welcome to Cardiff

by kitkatt0430



Series: Work In Progress Bingo [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ianto has grieved her and moved on already, Ianto just has terrible luck, Ianto's just in town to visit with his sister and her family, Jack's a flirt (of course), Lisa died at Torchwood One, M/M, Weevil Attack, in that Ianto's about to go start working for ARC, minor Primeval x-over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27088045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatt0430/pseuds/kitkatt0430
Summary: Ianto's only in town for the week to spend time with his sister and her family.  Unfortunately he keeps finding reasons to call Torchwood Three up.  He's really not looking for a reason to interact with Jack Harkness... but maybe drinks with the man aren't entirely unwanted.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Series: Work In Progress Bingo [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977097
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	Welcome to Cardiff

**Author's Note:**

> Found this half finished in my Unfinished/WIPs folder and it cleaned up quite nicely. :)
> 
> For my new WIP bingo card - filling in the Free Space for now.

“Not even one day,” Ianto muttered to himself as he ducked the weevil’s arm – there was a brief moment where the alien’s claws came too close for comfort to his face and all Ianto could think was a mantra of ‘duck’ and ‘claws’ which, once he could concentrate on something other than the claws, he figured would probably sound weird out of context. “Not even in Cardiff for one day,” he continued to grumble, zeroing in on a presumably empty fire extinguisher further down the alley. “I should have stayed in London.” Ianto took a chance and ran for the large canister.

He reached it at the same time as the weevil reached him, barely giving him any time to snatch up the heavy fire extinguisher (so maybe not empty, after all, but definitely dumped in the middle of nowhere for no good reason, not that he was looking a gift horse in the mouth or anything) and whirl around to smack it into the side of the weevil’s head. The momentum behind the extinguisher gave it just enough oomph to knock the damned thing out cold.

Ianto dropped the fire extinguisher and took stock of himself. He was sweaty, dirty, and the weevil had damaged the right sleeve of his shirt during its initial attack, but… no physical injuries beyond bumps, bruises, and the initial scrape to his arm, which wasn’t bleeding particularly badly. He’d been lucky. Well… as lucky as a person with the misfortune to be the target of an angry weevil attack.

Frowning, Ianto nudged the weevil with the toe of his shoe. He’d read about weevils in the archives of Torchwood One and they were supposed to be relatively peaceful and nocturnal. They were incredibly dim, though, and lashed out when frightened. Something must have disturbed the weevil’s rest and it had incorrectly assumed that Ianto, being the first person it saw, was to blame. It must’ve thought he was a threat. Which, considering that the weevil was now down and out, was technically true.

Unfortunately, Ianto couldn’t just leave it alone in the alleyway. If someone else disturbed it before it could wake up, realize there wasn’t any threat after all, and amble off back into its nest in the sewers, well… that someone else could end up hurt or dead.

He knew Torchwood Three’s phone number; he’d seen it in the archives and assuming his eidetic memory didn’t fail him… Ianto pulled out his mobile and dialed.

Two rings later, a voice – an American sounding voice – answered. “If you were hoping to reach the Roald Dahl Plas tourist office, I’m very sorry but we’re closed for renovations.”

“Actually I was hoping for Torchwood Three,” Ianto replied. “Captain Jack Harkness, I presume?”

The voice – definitely Harkness – turned suspicious. “Who the hell is this?”

“Ianto Jones, former Torchwood One archivist,” he replied, then rattled off his old ident-code for verification purposes. Ianto thought he heard typing in the background. “I just got attacked by a weevil. It’s knocked out, but if I remember correctly your team apparently rounds these guys up?”

“Knocked out how?” Harkness demanded.

“Fire extinguisher to the head. Seemed effective enough.” Ianto shrugged, adding, “I need to go bandage up my arm, but it didn’t seem… prudent, or ethical, to just leave the thing here unattended.” He then provided his location, the alleyway behind his hotel (seriously bad luck there, really).

“I’ll be there with one of my team shortly. Stay there,” Harkness insisted. “My guy’s a medic, he can look you over after we load up the weevil.”

“What, so you can retcon me?” Ianto asked dryly.

“You’re former Torchwood One. Not worth wasting the retcon on,” the American told him, clearly lying.

It didn’t matter, really. Ianto was one of the point-one percent of the population that retcon didn’t work on. Oh, it would temporarily muddy his memories, but that wouldn’t last. Torchwood One had screened its employees for retcon immunity and, when Ianto had been found to possess it, he’d been offered field agent training. He’d declined, due to a genuine interest in the Torchwood archives. Just because he enjoyed James Bond books and movies didn’t mean he was interested in actually being an agent in real life.

What was really annoying, though, was that he was going to be late meeting with his sister. The whole point of being in Cardiff was to spend some time reconnecting with her and here he was letting aliens get in the way of spending time with her, again. He wasn’t even Torchwood anymore, for goodness sake.

“Whatever,” Ianto sighed. “I’ll be here with the fire extinguisher ready in case it wakes before you two arrive.” He disconnected the call and then placed another call, this time to Rhiannon. “Hey Rhi,” he greeted when she picked up. “Look, I’m probably not going to make it for lunch. Sorry. I… got mugged when I left the hotel. I’m fine; I knocked the guy out, but now the police want to take my statement and… well, he had a knife, so my shirt’s a bit ruined.” He said the words all in a bit of a rush, so that she couldn’t interrupt him.

“Ianto!” Rhiannon finally cut in, if only because Ianto stopped for breath. “Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you?”

“No, I’m fine Rhi. Really.” He picked up the fire extinguisher and leaned against the nearest building, eyeing the unconscious weevil warily. “A little shook up, but fine. How about I call you after I’ve given my statement to the police and changed and maybe do dinner instead?”

“That’s fine, Ianto. You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yes...”

“Are you sure you won’t come stay at my house?” Rhiannon wheedled.

Ianto smiled fondly and shook his head. He loved Rhi. He liked Johnny. He adored their kids. But there was no way he was spending the week in their guest room. “I’ve been enjoying the chance to sleep in,” he told her dryly. No way he’d be able to sleep through their routine to prepare for work and school.

“Alright, alright,” she sighed. “I’ll call you after work this evening.”

They said their goodbyes and then it was just Ianto and the weevil in the alleyway. Not that it lasted long.

Torchwood rolled up in a highly conspicuous SUV with the organization’s name stenciled on it. Ianto rolled his eyes. Yvonne Hartmon hadn’t been wrong to call Jack Harkness ostentatious after all. (Hypocritical, perhaps, but not wrong.)

“Impressive work,” Jack drawled, after jumping dramatically out of the driver’s seat of the SUV.

Another man slinks out of the passenger seat. The medic, presumably.

They’re both handsome, but Ianto can’t quite take his eyes off of Harkness. What had been in the man’s archival file? A notation about the man possessing a magnetic sort of attraction?

Well there was an understatement.

“Let me see you’re arm,” the second Torchwood man said, reaching for Ianto.

“Why don’t you tell me your name and buy me a drink first,” Ianto drawled impishly, pulling away. “Get the weevil first. I can wait.” He’s all too aware of the contemplative stare from Harkness.

The man harrumphed, but turned to the weevil and shot Harkness a sharp look. “Well? I’m not moving the damn thing on my own, now am I?”

“Of course not.” Harkness didn’t move to help him, though. Instead he walked over to Ianto and held out his hand congenially. “I’m Jack Harkness. As you might’ve guessed. My charming colleague is Dr. Owen Harper.”

Ianto set aside his fire extinguisher and politely shook Harkness’ hand. “Like I said over the phone. Ianto Jones.” He gave the weevil a pointed look.

Harkness finally helped Harper load up the weevil in back of the SUV. And then Ianto let Harper disinfect and bandage up his arm. And then he wrote up a prescription on a pad that he pulled out of the car’s glove compartment.

Harper shoved the prescription against Ianto’s chest and he took it while giving the seemingly cantankerous man a polite smile. “What’s this?”

“General antibiotic. No telling what was on the weevil’s claws.” Owen went back to the car. “You coming, Jack.”

“In a minute.” He turned back to Ianto, charming smile all nice and bright.

Ianto told himself that his breath did not catch. Not even slightly.

“So what brought you to Cardiff, Ianto Jones? Former Torchwood One archivist with a retcon immunity...”

Ianto rolled his eyes. “I’m interviewing for a position at ARC next week. In London.” And the position was pretty much a lock for Ianto. The interview more formality than anything else. “I’m here to visit my sister. If you checked my file and saw the immunity, then you must’ve also seen her name and address in there too?” He shrugged, adding, “I know you’re so prejudiced against even the slightest connection a person might have to Director Hartman that even if I wanted a place at Torchwood Three there wouldn’t be any chance you’d hire me. Even though you are woefully understaffed there, from what I’ve heard.”

“Your gonna fight dinosaurs?” Jack asked, voice a little mocking.

“I was an archivist at Torchwood One. I’ll be head archivist at ARC.” The Anomaly Research Center was basically taking over anomaly containment now that Torchwood One was no longer in a position to do so. A number of former Torchwood One employees had been snapped up, but most of those had been field agents and scientists. ARC was trying to claim ownership of Torchwood One’s anomaly research; with Ianto heading their archival process, they’d be much more likely to get what they wanted… whether UNIT let them or not.

Ianto knew all the back doors into the Torchwood One’s systems, after all.

“Huh, well… good luck with that.” Jack leaned a little closer. “If you’d like to get a drink while in town...”

“Then I know where to call you.” Ianto tilted his head towards the SUV. “Harper’s looking impatient.”

“Owen’s always looking impatient,” Jack replied, but he took the hint and swanned off anyway.

Once the SUV was gone, Ianto headed back to his hotel room to shower and change. Then he’d need to find a pharmacy to get that script filled…

* * *

Not even a day later, Ianto notices a pteradactyl fly into an old warehouse.

He wasn’t supposed to be encountering dinosaurs until after he started at ARC.

Sighing to himself, he called Torchwood Three’s front office again. “It’s Ianto Jones again,” he interrupted Harkness’ spiel about the tourist office again.

“Another weevil? Or are you taking me up on that offer of drinks?”

“There’s a pteradactyl in the warehouse district,” Ianto tells him. “You’re closer than ARC, so you’re the lucky guy about to adopt a very unusual parrot.”

Something warm bubbles in Ianto’s chest at the sound of Harkness’ laughter. The guy wasn’t even present – his magnetic attraction shouldn’t work over the phone… right?

“Come pick up our new friend and maybe we can talk drinks after,” Ianto offered.

No reason not to have drinks with the handsome man, after all. And Ianto could do worse for a rebound than Jack Harkness, after all.


End file.
